Sunshine and Frost

2. New Start

I lay on my bed as my mother's words replay in my head, "We will be moving to Burgess so I can get better pay. This means that you'll be going to a new school."

It's been a week since she told me and honestly it hasn't really affected me that much. The biggest hassle is packing all of my stuff in my room for the move.

A normal teenager would probably be furious if their parents made them move in the middle of their junior year in high school. Lucky for me I don't have a single person that will miss me, because I've basically cut everyone out of my life already.

I let out a laugh because of how pathetic that is, I mean I'm 17 for crying out loud. I should be perusing my passions and having fun with people my age. Funny thing is I can't do that with the insane schedule mother has given me.

My parents are doctors, and mother now insists that I become one too. And to become a doctor you need straight A's and a 4.0 GPA. Meaning I have no time for a social life or friends.

She's only just recently cracked down on my school work, a few years ago she didn't care as much. It's probably because of my parents getting divorced a few months back. It was pretty quick and painless for the most part, at least for them. Dad had been having an affair with one of his coworkers for about a year, and he decided that it was time to dump Mom.

When Dad gave the news she was more angry than sad, and things went from bad to worse. She kept screaming for him to get out and go to hell, not shedding a single tear the whole time. Then just like that Dad was gone, he didn't even fight for custody of me.

Dad was Mom's buffer, the one to remind her to take it easy on me because I'm just in high school. He was the one who told me that my life was mine and that I could do whatever I wanted with it. Without him there is no one to stop her from doing what she sees necessary for me to have a secure and stable life.

So now I go to school and pay close attention my advance courses, which happen to be the only classes I take. Then I come home to slave over the homework for the night. I never go to any football games, I have never joined any clubs, and I don't play sports.

What a sad life I live, and at this point I can't really find it in myself to care. I don't even have the guts to tell my mother I actually suck at science. I struggle everyday to understand what my biology and anatomy teachers are explaining.

The only reason I'm passing is because I force myself to read the textbooks and watch online videos until I understand it. It's a hard and exhausting process with almost no reward, but it's what my mother expects from me.

If I were to tell her the truth, that I actually find myself excelling in English, I don't know what she would do to me. And I can't call Dad because he wouldn't help me, he's too busy planing his wedding with his fiancé.

I look over to my bookshelf, skimming over the novels I've managed to get my hands on over the years. Stories of two people falling in love, the vast universe of science fiction, and tales full of dangerous adventures for me to escape into.

I use books as a substitute for everything that I miss in life right now. I read about what real friends are like, how normal families act, and how love is supposed to feel. I love to read about the way life isn't anyways perfect, but how it works itself out in the end. Because my life isn't perfect, but I probably won't be the one with a happy ending.

I close my eyes and smile, picturing the many ways that my life could go. I could go to school on the other side of the world after high school, I could learn to draw to become an artist, or be a chef for some fancy restaurant. My smile fades as I remember that will never happen as long as my mother controls my life. I'm not even a legal adult yet and my life decisions have already been made for me, all without my own input to the subject, and before I even have a chance to graduate.

I let out a sigh, getting up to pack my stuff. As I pack I wonder how it would feel if I actually cared about this move.

I imagine a continuing argument with my mother, a lot of moping in my room, with a feeling of betrayal and sadness. The resentment that would grow in the days leading to the move, and the sense of defeat that would inevitably take over once everything was done.

That is probably how I should feel, but as hard as I try, I don't feel a thing.

Of course I make sure no one knows how numb I actually am. Because as long as I say the right things and act the right way everyone thinks I'm fine.

It's like I'm drowning in a public pool, surrounded by people, but no one sees me fight everyday to stay afloat. No one cares that I can feel myself start to give up.

I hear a voice from downstairs, "Nicola, are you packed yet?" And just like that I'm back in work mode, "I'm almost done Mom." I yell back.

I hate it when my mother uses my first name, it reminds me of how much pressure is on me. My parents have always high expectations for me, even as a baby, purposely choosing a name that means victory.

My mother's recent schedule keeps me busy enough to keep my mind off of my internal struggle. As long as I'm doing something the numbing thoughts stay in the back of my head. It's only when I'm left alone with my thoughts I can feel myself start to drown.

Mother's voice cuts through my thoughts again, "Well make sure that after you pack spend some time studying. I don't want you behind in your studies when we get to the new house."

Once I finish packing my books I move to fill my duffle bag and my suitcase with my clothes. My furniture is already gone, and I have no more personal items to pack causing me to finish rather quickly.

I sigh taking one last look at my room before crawling into bed, knowing that this is the last night I'll spend here.